She'd managed, mostly, to put the terrifying experience of her childhood from her mind when she'd been chased and nearly attacked by a pack of dogs, but it wasn't an experience, obviously, that she'd managed to completely forget.
Dogs still unnerved her, particularly large dogs—especially very large, wild dogs like wolves.
What would a wolf be doing on the island anyway, she wondered?
Had her eyes been playing tricks on her? Was it not a wolf at all, but maybe a very large dog that just resembled one?
It dawned on her abruptly that Dash hadn't said anything about the wolf.
Of course, they'd been pretty occupied with other things, she thought wryly.
Getting up decisively, she headed back across the resort, taking the same route she had the night before as nearly as she could recall. She discovered fairly quickly, though, that that was a waste of time. There were so many footprints going in every direction it was impossible to tell if there was any sign that anyone actually had been following her.
She couldn't even distinguish her own footprints.
Vaguely disappointed, although she wasn't particularly surprised, she continued until she reached Dash's cabin again and walked around it, searching the dirt for any sign of paw prints. It disturbed her when she didn't find any. After studying her position in relation to where she had been standing the night before, she crouched down and studied the sandy soil a little closer and still saw nothing, not even a partial print.
Somehow that disturbed her more than if she'd found a print. It had been a really big animal. It seemed weird that it hadn't left any kind of print at all. Straightening, she stared into the thick undergrowth of the forest for some time, debating whether she wanted to search a little further. A shiver skated through her. There was no way she was going in there to try to prove she hadn't lost her mind!
* * * *
Brooke's uneasiness about her experience before she'd ended up in bed with Dash went a long way toward putting her initial discomfort about her ‘walk of shame’ into perspective. It wasn't as if she knew anyone on the island, after all, or would ever see any of them again. Then, too, since it was an adult resort it sort of went without saying that everyone had come at least hoping to hook up with someone and she doubted, even if they had noticed she'd slept in her dress, that she needed to worry about censure.
Her first glimpse of Dash threw her for such a loop that it completely overshadowed everything else. Any doubts she'd had about her own feelings vanished. Warmth and heady excitement both filled her until she felt as giddy and awkward as she had with her first crush.
He snubbed her. It wasn't overt—he smiled and acknowledged her as he always had—but it was the very fact that he seemed to be taking care to behave no differently than before that hit her as hard as a slap in the face. She was glad afterward that she was too far away for him to realize the effect it had on her. She felt crushed. She couldn't even summon any anger to oust the hurt, though she did manage to master the urge to cry.
After retreating to her bungalow to lick her wounds, she took a long swim and followed it by a short nap. Upon waking, she gave herself a pep-talk, trying to put things into perspective.
No doubt, even though she'd told herself that Dash hadn't struck her as a man that was in the habit of being careless, his status as owner of the resort not only insured that women were readily available to him, but it had probably also put him in the path of plenty of gold diggers. It was her own fault that she'd read more into their night of intimacy than he'd intended. She'd thought he found her as attractive as she did him—and she still didn't think she was wrong about that—but she also realized he'd been very careful to keep his distance, which should've been warning enough that he didn't want to take that attraction to the next level.
She was the one that had pushed when she'd breeched his barriers by showing up in his house late at night. Even as unsettled as she was, she'd realized as soon as she'd thrown herself at him that he was naked, that he'd no doubt only just come from a swim when he'd found her. Maybe he even thought she'd faked the faint just to play on his masculinity.
She hadn't even put up a token protest when he'd kissed her.
There didn't seem to be much doubt that he regretted it and was struggling to figure out how to deal with it.
Well, she could at least take responsibility for her own actions and behave like an adult about it, even though she didn't feel the least bit mature about the situation. Her entire psyche churned with a miserable mixture of hurt, anger, and embarrassment but she left the bungalow with the determination to take her cue from him and behave as if it had never happened.
It wasn't as if anything could have come of it, anyway, she reminded herself. She was only on vacation/hiding out. She was going to have to get back to her life on the mainland and Dash was tied to his island resort. Long range relationships never worked out.
She was pardonably pleased with herself by the time she crawled under the covers in her own bed that night and composed herself for sleep. She'd not only managed to completely avoid an uncomfortable confrontation that she wasn't ready for, but she thought she was actually getting the hang of pretending she wasn't bothered by the situation. She was pretty sure Dash was just as relieved to have avoided a ‘morning after’ confrontation as she was and that he'd continue to, but she also thought she was in a fair way to being able to handle it if he did decide to force the issue, and salve her pride—or salvage what was left of it.
She didn't sleep well despite the fact that she'd spent the day working hard to wear herself out. The sound of baying wolves woke her sometime time in the wee hours and although she finally managed to calm herself enough to go back to sleep, she had nightmares.
The next morning when she went out to enjoy her coffee on the deck, she found footprints—wolf tracks and a man's footprints that wandered all the way around her bungalow. The man's prints were right beneath the window that looked into her bedroom.
Someone had stood there, watching her sleep.
* * * *
Dash was so wrapped up in wrestling with his dilemma that it took him a while to tumble to the fact that Brooke was avoiding him as assiduously as he was avoiding her. It might have taken him longer except for the fact that he found himself wrestling a lot harder with a desire to get her into his bed again than his conscience about breaking his ‘code'.
There was no repairing the damage, he finally realized. What was done was done. He couldn't undo it and he certainly couldn't confess, now, what he was. He had to accept that he'd thoroughly screwed up any possibility of pursuing an actual relationship with Brooke. If she learned what he was now she would just run screaming back to the mainland and refuse to have anything at all to do with him.
The temptation to enjoy what time they could be together was nearly overwhelming, though he wrestled with that, too. The problem was, he'd enjoyed it entirely too much and he had a very bad feeling that he wasn't going to be satisfied with exploring his taste for Brooke for a few days or weeks. The uncomfortable suspicion that he might become more addicted to her wasn't easily dismissed. Self-preservation warred with desire for a while, but there was really no contest.
He'd had a taste of heaven. He wanted more and neither his conscience nor his certainty that he was opening himself for a hard fall held much weight when stacked against the hunger than began to grow almost as soon as he'd slunk cravenly from the bed to ‘think things over’ the morning after their night together. Unfortunately, by the time his need reached a point where it was screaming down every objection he could think of to try to talk some sense into his cock, he discovered he had a new problem.
He hadn't neatly avoided a confrontation he wasn't ready for while he wrestled with how to handle it. Brooke had either noticed he was avoiding her and distanced herself from him.
Or she hadn't felt the same about their night together as he had.
That niggling suspicion didn't set well with him. In fact, a m
ixture of anger, confusion, and unpleasant suspicion began to churn in his belly.
His beast had been riding him, he recalled. He'd given in to the call of his wild side and shifted, racing through the woods and enjoying the exhilaration of running with the pack and hunting. He'd still been high with the adrenaline surging through him when he'd returned, though, and that had left him wide open to the desire for Brooke that he'd been so assiduously trying to ignore.
He'd thought she was enjoying it as much as he was. He'd been convinced she'd come, that he'd given as much pleasure as he'd taken. Looking back, though, he discovered it was a little harder to convince himself now ... particularly in light of the fact that she seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him.
And also the fact that he realized he couldn't actually recall a hell of a lot about it beyond the madness that seemed to have seized him from the moment he'd kissed her and his own shattering release.
Disconcerted, he fell back to regroup and think it over but by the end of the second day the hunger was gnawing at him until he'd pretty much lost any ability to think straight.
Between her little disappearing acts and the constant interference of business throughout the day, his temper was already at a slow simmer by the time he managed to corner her at dinner.
Part III
Marlee Eastman
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Six
"Is this seat taken?” Dash asked as politely as he could manage, baring his teeth at her in the closest approximation as he could manage to a smile.
Brooke glanced at him, looking a little startled. “Well ... uh..."
He pulled the chair out and sat down.
She blushed faintly. “Actually, I was finished. I was about to leave,” she said a little uncomfortably.
He stood up again, moving around to pull her chair out for her. It actually suited him far more to talk to her in private than under the noses of his guests and staff. “Good. We can take a walk along the beach."
She looked a little surprised, and more than a little reluctant but, to his relief, she didn't object.
She also seemed distracted. He took advantage of it and steered her along the beach toward his cabin. Unfortunately, she seemed to surface from her preoccupation about half way there. After sending him a curious look, she stopped abruptly and slipped her sandals off, then headed down toward the water.
Resisting the urge to grab her and toss her over his shoulder and head for his place, Dash followed her, stopping short of the water when she waded in.
This wasn't going well, he thought, feeling his simmering anger take an upward turn. Struggling with it while she stood staring at the ocean, he finally managed to at least beat it back down to something more manageable by the time she glanced at him and then very deliberately turned back in the direction from which they'd come.
To hell with his damned dress clothes, he thought angrily, heading her off.
She sent him a startled look when he grasped her hand and tugged her to a halt.
"I wanted to apologize,” he said uncomfortably. “You aren't making this any easier."
Something flickered in her eyes, but she looked away too quickly for him to catch it. Her gaze was cool when she looked at him again, assessing. She didn't pretend to have no idea what he was talking about, though. She even managed a faint smile that actually looked genuine except it didn't reach her eyes. “Don't. You got what you wanted. I got what I wanted. An apology is completely unnecessary. That's what this place is all about, isn't it?"
He studied her appraisingly, feeling his hold on his temper slip a couple of notches. “True,” he said, matching her cool nonchalance with an effort. He shifted closer, tugging at her hand until she lost her balance and fell against him. Spearing one hand in her hair, he tipped her head back and swooped to capture her lips beneath his. She stiffened, resisted enough to assure him she would've avoided his kiss if he hadn't prevented it.
It made his anger and a sense of possessiveness surge to the forefront of his mind. She parted her lips for him readily enough, though. Briefly, a sense of triumph threaded his veins as he laid siege to her mouth, exploring it with the possessiveness of ownership. That vanished when he realized that she hadn't actually surrendered. She'd merely chosen not to do battle.
He drew her closer, until she was molded completely against his length, drawing her small tongue into his mouth and suckling it, following as she withdrew it from his possession and nipping and sucking at her mouth coaxingly until he felt her resistance fading, smelled her arousal, until he'd begun to tremble with the upsurge of his own needs.
She braced her palms against his chest when he broke the kiss and nuzzled his face against her throat, applying just enough pressure that it finally penetrated his heat fogged mind that she was pushing him away.
She smiled a little shakily when he lifted his head to stare at her in baffled anger.
"I have to go."
He had to force himself to release his grip on her, fight his beast, for it was clamoring at him to throw her to the sand and assuage the need drumming through him. He couldn't think of a single civilized thing to say. “Why?” he demanded in a growl.
She shook her head, took a step back. “I told a friend I'd meet ... them later at the club."
He had just enough reason left to realize he was holding no more than a thread of it, particularly the moment it clicked in his mind that her hesitation meant the ‘friend’ was male. The possessiveness he'd felt moments before was as nothing beside what surged through him in that moment. “He'll understand if you don't show,” he growled. “After all, that's what this place is all about—hook ups."
She shook her head at him, though he could see his anger made her uneasy. “I have to go."
He struggled with his temper, but it was beyond controlling. “I tried to explain. It's complicated."
She managed a faint, tight smile. “And nobody wants anything complicated in paradise. I told you I understood."
He ground his teeth. “Woman, you don't understand a damned thing!"
She let out a huff of a breath, folding her arms. “. don't want complications in my life, how's that?"
He didn't try to stop her when she pushed past him and stalked off though it took every ounce of self-control he could muster. Turning, he watched her until she'd rounded the pavilion and disappeared from view.
Dropping his gaze to his trousers, wet to the knees by now, he snarled, “Well, fuck!"
Slogging out of the water, he stalked to his bungalow to change.
* * * *
The encounter had shaken Brooke more than she liked to admit even to herself. She wasn't just going to fall back into Dash's bed and spread her legs, though, damn it! Not when he'd made it so abundantly clear that he was worried she might get the ‘wrong’ idea about the night they'd had sex.
She hadn't lied to him. She really didn't want to complicate her life any further. He'd done her favor, even though she hadn't realized it at the time, and he certainly hadn't intended it that way.
She was vulnerable to Dash. Beyond the mind blowing sex they'd had, she liked him way too much. She could succumb to his charms without any effort and fall hopelessly in love with him. If he hadn't held her at arm's length after they'd slept together, she would've been following him around like a hopeful puppy by now.
As it was, he'd given her time to consider her situation.
It wasn't as if it was a rebound reaction. She hadn't been in love with her ex to start with, so she couldn't claim that as an excuse. He did fulfill, or had, a deep need to find safe shelter from her fears, but she couldn't even say that that was all of it.
And it didn't matter anyway. She had to stand on her own two feet and face her own problems.
She was beginning to think they'd caught up with her in spite of her efforts to convince herself that there was no way Billy could've followed her here. She might have been able to convince herself except that he'd done a
damned good job of keeping tabs on her before.
She was willing to accept the possibility that she'd merely imagined that she'd been followed the night she had ended up with Dash, but she certainly hadn't imagined the foot prints she'd found around her cabin the day before. And she certainly wasn't ‘imagining’ that there was inherent threat in that discovery. Whoever it was had stood directly outside her window—close enough she didn't doubt he'd had his face pressed to the glass.
What were the odds, she thought a little hysterically, that she'd picked up another stalker?
Astronomical, she thought, and far more unlikely than the possibility that Billy had found her.
She didn't know what his game was, but she knew it had to be him.
She should've told Dash, she realized. It was a testament to just how screwed up she was that she'd been too uncomfortable after their interlude to approach Dash with her suspicions.
Because she was afraid he'd either think she was making it up as an excuse to crawl back into his bed, or worse, just think she was a nut case.
Why was she worrying about what Dash might think about her when she had every reason to believe she might be in danger?
Her ex had put her in the hospital the first time. There was no telling what he might do if he attacked her again.
She debated the situation while she got ready for the ‘date’ she didn't actually have.
Maybe she should've just taken Dash up on his offer?
Was that any worse than the plan she had made?
It was, she reminded herself. She didn't doubt that Dash would offer the safety she needed. She didn't think Billy would be inclined to show his face as long as she was around other people, and certainly not if she was with another man, but she didn't think she was up to handling a broken heart on top of everything else. At least if she chose a different lover she wouldn't have to worry about lugging unwanted baggage back with her when she headed home again.
Of course, whoever she hooked up with was liable to boot her out of his bed the minute he was done with her, but she was pretty sure she could manage a bed partner for the night—she didn't think even Billy would be brazen enough to approach her, or attack her, in the light of day when there would be so many witnesses.
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